The Edge of Something Wonderful
by Macbeth Mouse
Summary: Dumbledore is dead; the Order of the Phoenix has fallen. Welcome to the world ruled by Lord Voldemort, where Muggles and Mudbloods live in constant terror of death, and Purebloods are the only ones allowed to walk free AU SLASH DM/HP
1. Deep Danger

The crisp night air felt cool against his face. Whenever he would breath, a puff of white steam would surface, and the crunch beneath his feet helped him to feel at home in the tundra. Warmth from the hand in his own was foreign, however.

The small group hurriedly made their way across the street in hopes of not drawing too much attention to themselves. On this day in years prior, it would have been difficult to turn one's attention toward them, for the roads would be lively kilometres around. Ever since that fateful day, things hadn't been the same, and not a soul was celebrating this evening.

_It's_ _Christmas_, Harry thought as he huffed. _Where is everyone_? He knew the answer to the question already, but something had to be said to fill the silence in his mind. Who knew; maybe, if he pretended to be ignorant, then the knowledge would fade from existence.

Ahead of him, Mr. Malfoy turned and looked back. "Quickly," he whispered. "We haven't much time for this." Harry could feel more than see Malfoy nod beside him at his father's words. Then, too, Harry nodded, and they continued on their way at a swifter pace.

Stopping just before a crowd of people, they hid behind a brick wall as the danger passed. Harry couldn't help but overhear them as they spoke delightfully among one another.

"I suppose you've heard about Azkaban's latest residents."

"Why, yes, the Weasleys! Truly a shame, those ones. I would have expected better from a Pureblood family."

"Especially from one descended from the House of Black."

With an agitated jerk, Harry lowered the hood of his robe around his face. He really did not want to hear of the fate bestowed upon his friends and allies. Just as he was in hiding, he had hoped the Weasleys had been wise enough to not fight the new regime. Obviously, courage was their downfall, and though he would never spite their bravery, he wouldn't commend it, either.

Malfoy was tugging him along by the time Harry had noticed the people were gone. One frustrated grunt later, they had moved to where they stood in front of a door. Mr. Malfoy knocked fervently, not once pausing in his motions. Time was of the essence now, and they could not afford to waste any of it simple waiting.

It opened to the sight of Snape with his usual scowl. Not even bothering to question the group before he let him in, Snape stepped to one side and closed the door right behind them.

"Lucius," he said with a warning. "What in Merlin's name is _he_ doing here?" Recognising that Harry was in the spotlight, Malfoy let go of his hand and walked off to an unobtrusive corner.

"Severus, I‒"

"Don't you 'Severus', me, Malfoy." Snape pulled out his wand and was pointing it at Mr. Malfoy's neck. No one in the room questioned that he would use it without hesitation. Not after the night at the Astronomy Tower. "You have until I count to five to tell me why you are here. Otherwise, I shall summon the Dark Lord and he will decide what to do with you." He lifted the arm that wasn't holding his wand and drew the sleeves up to his elbows. The Dark Mark stood vibrantly against his pale skin, and for the first time, Harry didn't shudder. He had seen it enough times in the past few months to have gotten used to it.

"One."

"Severus, you have to believe me, I‒"

"Two."

"I didn't know what to do with him. Just showed up and‒"

"Three."

"‒ we've got a plan, see. W-we're going to use him to‒"

"Four."

"‒ conceive an heir for the Dark Lord!"

Snape's hand hovered over the tattoo on his forearm. He looked about a breath away from making contact, but had paused as if intrigued by Mr. Malfoy's words.

"What did you say?"

"I-I said that we're going to conceive an heir for the Dark Lord by having Draco mate with the Potter boy."

Mr. Malfoy was beyond frightened, Harry could tell. And why wouldn't he be? It was up to Severus Snape, the man who had killed Albus Dumbledore in cold blood, as to whether the three of them lived or died. But it seemed to be working. Ever so slowly, Snape dropped his arm and continued to stare at Mr. Malfoy.

Then he lowered his wand as well. "Do you _really_ expect me to believe that Lucius? I know quite well what you're up to."

"You do?" Mr. Malfoy swallowed hard and cautiously moved a pace back.

"Yes," said Snape. "And since I know you can't possibly do what you're thinking of doing without me, I'm going to help you."

Eyes wide, Mr. Malfoy slumped to the ground from exhaustion as Snape left the room

"Father!" Malfoy called out and rushed to his side, only to be shooed away.

"I'm fine, Draco. Just very, very relieved. " He put a hand to his breast and simply breathed.

Snape returned with a vial in his hand. "This," he said, handing it to Harry who, before now had been pretty much ignored. "This is your first dose of the Polyjuice Potion. I have brewed it specially to last for long periods of time, so long as you drink it all.

"The total time you have between when you drink it and when it wears off is approximately 24 hours."

"24 Hours!" Harry all but shouted. "How did you manage that?"

The Potions master did not smile, as others might have in the same position. "I have my ways," he said simply. Then he turned back to Mr. Malfoy. "I trust you will keep him safe from harm and out of the Dark Lord's sight."

Mr. Malfoy nodded. "Of course, Severus. But, may I ask, just whose sample it is that you put into the potion?"

"Her name is of no importance," Snape said suddenly, causing Harry to jump a bit. "But I'm sure Mr. Potter will come to know who she is sooner or later."

Pleasantries aside, Snape and Mr. Malfoy left for a more private room to conduct the technical aspects of their plot, leaving Harry and Malfoy alone in Snape's front room. Malfoy was sitting on a lounger, peering at all the trinkets that lined the room while Harry stood their awkwardly. He didn't feel it was right to sit down, but neither would it have been appropriate to continue standing there.

Never one to follow any pre-set options, Harry took the third choice and settled himself right outside the door to the room Snape and Mr. Malfoy were in. With a stealth he didn't know he had, Harry leant down and attempted to listen through the bottom of the door. Curiosity was going to cost him, however.

"What are you doing?" Malfoy's voice boomed behind him. He had approached in a way so as Harry could not see nor hear him, and as such, Harry was startled.

"Malfoy," he whispered harshly. "Shut up."

Malfoy snorted. "You aren't really in a position to be making demands, Potter." While he was correct, Harry didn't much care. He was trying to figure out just what Lucius's plan was, and Malfoy was getting right in his way.

"Oh, you _are_ a bad boy, Potter. Listening in on other people's conversations."

"Malfoy, I said shut it."

"Oooh, I'm _so_ scared. Ickle Potter threatening me. Not so tough without your wand, though, are you?"

Harry took a quick look back, then swiped his leg behind Malfoy's, causing the other boy to fall to the ground with a thud.

"Oh, God dammit!" Malfoy shouted, and then the door opened.

"Draco," Mr. Malfoy said as he looked at his son. "What do you think you are doing? We're trying to have an important discussion here." Then he spotted Harry on the ground as well with his head close to the door.

"I think," said Snape as he stepped through the threshold. "Our discussion is over. We both know all that is needed to know."

Mr. Malfoy nodded. "Yes, I think so, too. Boys, let us be off."

Standing up, Malfoy turned an accusing finger at Harry. "Father, he‒"

"Now is not the time, Draco," Lucius hissed. "Now, come along, grab Harry, and let's go." Not wanting to disobey his father, Malfoy picked Harry up by one arm.

"Get up, Potter, or I'll drag you all the way back to the manor." Harry had the urge to spit in his face, but supressed it and instead stood up. Brushing himself, off, Harry could only growl in annoyance as Malfoy grabbed his hand again.

"Farewell, Severus," Mr. Malfoy said before they disapparated.


	2. Reality Hits

Within a matter of moments, they reached the Malfoy Manor. Harry bemused that he had never liked travelling by magic, but was so absorbed by the ostentatious décor that the thought hardly registered. Everything was so out-there and very _Malfoy_ in taste. He snorted in mild laughter and rolled his eyes.

"What?" Malfoy spat, irate at his amusement. Shrugging, Harry looked away in feigned ignorance. "Don't you look away from me, Potter!" He grabbed Harry by the chin and spun his head painfully toward him. "Got that?"

"Draco! That is no way to treat our esteemed guest!" Mr. Malfoy ripped his son's hand away from Harry's face. "He is _not_ a toy, he is your concubine."

Harry's eyes went wide. "Y-you were serious?" Even Malfoy looked quite shocked at this revelation.

"Yes," said Mr. Malfoy. "I was very serious."

Just then, an odd-looking woman Harry had come to know as Narcissa Malfoy walked in the room. "You're back," she said curtly. "I made tea."

Mr. Malfoy nodded. "Would you bring it here, then come sit with us? We are about to discuss our _decision_." The way he put emphasis on the word 'decision' caused chills to make their way up Harry's spine.

Her face turning dark, Mrs. Malfoy looked right at Harry. "I do hope you know what you're doing Lucius. That boy could get us all killed." She left the room ‒ presumably for the kitchen ‒ leaving the men to themselves once more.

"Sit, sit." The elder Malfoy motioned to the chairs that had been inconspicuously there the entire time. By the time Harry and Malfoy had begrudgingly seated, Mrs. Malfoy had returned with a tea cup for each. She did not ask how much sugar or crème Harry wanted in his, but when he took a sip, it was just how he liked it.

"Now," said Mr. Malfoy. "It is time we talked about your future, Draco."

"I know my future," Malfoy said sternly, yet with a hint of regret. "I'm going to serve for the Dark Lord the rest of my life."

"No, you aren't."

"But Father, I have to! He'll kill me if I don't." With this last bit of information, the picture started to become clearer to Harry. The Malfoy family was _afraid_; they didn't serve Voldemort because they liked him. Harry wondered if anyone actually liked Tom Riddle besides Bellatrix Lestrange.

"This is why we have the boy," Mrs. Malfoy said. "Your father has thought up of a way to defeat him."

Malfoy chortled bitterly. "Yes, because that hasn't already been tried before." As much as he hated to admit it, Harry agreed with Malfoy. Dumbledore had a perfect plan to defeat Voldemort, and where was he now? Laying in his own shallow grave.

"I understand your lack of enthusiasm, but trust us, we do have a way. It won't be easy, but nothing ever is."

"And just what does this have to do with Potter conceiving my child?"

"Everything," said Mr. Malfoy, a small smile on his face.

"Wait," Harry spoke up unexpectedly. "I don't understand. Why me?"

"Yes," Malfoy agreed. "Why him? Why couldn't I just fuck Parkinson and be done with it?"

"Watch your language," Mrs. Malfoy scolded.

"The reason it has to be you, Harry," Mr. Malfoy said. "Is because you are the most powerful wizard in the world, save the Dark Lord. If Draco and you were to have a child, then who knows how powerful they would be? Perhaps more powerful than the Dark Lord himself."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Alright. I'll do it, if it's to defeat You-Know Who." He had to remind himself not to say the name, for even though he did not fear using the word 'Voldemort', it was a cursed word, and using it would call attention to them. "Although, I suppose I don't have much of a choice in the matter anyway."

Mr. Malfoy's smile grew. "Wonderful! It will be much easier because you're willing."

"Don't I get a say in this?" asked Malfoy. "I mean, I am one of the major participants."

"Malfoy, if I don't get a choice, then neither do you. So shut up."

Looking miffed, Malfoy scoffed. "Father, did you just‒?"

"Yes, Draco I heard. Now, onto the formalities."

"Formalities?" Harry was puzzled, while Malfoy looked perplexed that his father had blatantly ignored him.

"Yes," said Mr. Malfoy. "You boys may not know this, but the Dark Lord has just ensured that a new marriage law has been passed. All Pureblood witches and wizards must marry, as well as reproduce."

"Yes, but as Potter is not only _not _a Pureblood, but he's also supposed to be _dead_, you can't honestly say that I have to marry him. Right?"

"That's where the Polyjuice Potion comes in." Now everything was starting to make sense. Harry thumbed the vial in his pocket nervously, already guessing as to what was coming next.

"Harry, you are going to take the form of a woman, and we shall pass you off as Draco's new wife from abroad."

"Father," Malfoy interjected. "How is that going to work? We'll have to get papers, and Potter will have to learn a new language; there are so many other things we'll have to do. I don't think we can do all of that!"

"Now, Draco, what did your mother say about trusting us? We have that all figured out already." Mr. Malfoy pulled out a few sheets of parchment from his robe pockets and began to go over the basics.

Harry's pseudonym was going to be Gloria Falken, and he was supposed to be an immigrant from Germany. Distantly related to the House of Black, as Gloria, Harry would be expected to uphold the highest of Pureblood standards and _never_ accept Muggleborns as actual witches or wizards. Blood traitors, too, would be below him in terms of class, as well as Half-bloods and Squibs. From the start of things, Harry knew that this whole ordeal was going to be difficult for him. However, in all his years, he never would have guessed that he would have to treat others as _worthless_, much like the Dursleys had treated him.

That kind of power could make a lesser man go mad.

Which then brought him to the hardest part of it all: marrying Malfoy _and_ doing his best not to kill him. The latter part alone would be impossible if the other man didn't change his attitude quickly, but the former? Harry wished he had Ron and Hermione to help him with what he was going to do. He didn't have time to think of what ifs, or could have beens now; there was work to be done.

"Malfoy," Harry called when the other boy stood up from the chair. They were alone now, as Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had retired for the evening.

"What, _Potter_?"

"Look, I know you don't like me, and trust me when I say that I don't like you. But for this to work, we _need_ to get along. We don't have to fall in love, but we at least have to pretend we have." Malfoy looked as if he were about to protest, then sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"You're right," he admitted hesitantly. "And if we're going to be civil to each other, we might as well be on a first-name basis, Harry."

"It's Gloria, Draco _darling,_" Harry said and winked. Draco let out a small laugh.

"Of course, _darling_, how could I forget?" Chuckling a bit, Harry nodded his head.

"I'm glad we can at least get a laugh out of it now."

"Yeah, that's for certain."

"By the way," Harry said as an afterthought. "You can call me Harry when we're alone. I think it should be safe."

"Right then, Harry it is."


	3. Darkness Rising

A group of silent people filled the drawing room. They were seated at a long and ornate table with nervous looks upon their faces. An assortment of furniture lined the walls and appeared to have been pushed carelessly aside. A roaring fire lit the dark room in wonder beneath a picturesque marble banister. Just above the fireplace was a mirror that reflected the pregnant atmosphere lingering in the room.

There was a single man who paced the room, looking at each individual with more rage than the last.

"What is the condition of the Mudblood?" he asked slowly. "Anyone?"

He took a lazy stroll around the room and inspected the faces of very person there. "No volunteers?" said Voldemort. "Yaxley!"

The man in question looked up in shock.

"Y-yes, my Lord?"

"Can you report on the condition of Hermione Granger?"

"No, my Lord, I‒"

Quicker than anyone could see, Voldemort pulled out his wand.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

A flash of green light illuminated the room, then Yaxley fell down. He was dead.

"That," Voldemort said, resuming his pace. "Is what happens when you fail to be of use to me. Dolohov, you shall take over Yaxley's position at the Ministry." Dolohov nodded in understanding.

In response, the rest sat up straighter in their seats, and their faces were vibrant with terror. Some were even shaking. But not Bellatrix. She leant in her chair toward Voldemort and had a look of pleasure on her face.

"My Lord," Bellatrix said, her voice oozing with desire. "I believe I know how to find her."

Voldemort turned toward her quickly and walked her way. "Go on, Bellatrix. I am intrigued to find out what you think might work that I haven't already thought of."

She flinched, but didn't hesitate. "You know, of course, my Lord, that the Mudblood was close with the _blood-traitors_, the Weasleys, as well as with Harry Potter." Some of the other Death Eaters, in particular her sister Narcissa, looked at her in horror. She had said the boy's _name_? Voldemort had killed for less than that, with a few moments earlier as proof. But the Dark Lord made no movements to stop her. "And while we may have already used the weasels as much as we can, we may not have been asking for the right answers.

"Perhaps we need only to find out from them whom it is that _does_ know where the Mudblood is."

"Is this true?" Voldemort looked at no one in particular. "Did you indeed refrain from asking about who might know where Hermione Granger is located?"

Dolohov coughed. "My Lord, well‒"

"It is a simple 'yes' or 'no' question, Dolohov."

"Yes, but‒"

Screaming in rage, Voldemort looked as if he were about to reach for his wand again, then paused. "I have already done away with one of my Ministry informants tonight, and there is little reason to do the same with another, so long as he continues to be of use to me." Dolohov seemed to have gotten the hint and managed to stammer out a "yes, my Lord".

Bellatrix was a little put-down at not having gotten an acknowledgement of her great thinking and decided to put the spotlight back on herself.

"However, I don't see any reason why my Lord is afraid of her. She is but a filthy Mudblood; not even a real witch. While you are the most powerful wizard in all of time."

"Let it be known that I am not afraid of this girl. It is simply my wish to tie up all loose ends," Voldemort said.

"Thank you for the clarification, my Lord," said Bellatrix. "There is no higher pleasure than knowing your might."

"No higher pleasure," Voldemort repeated. "Even compared with the happy even that, I hear, has taken place in your family this week?"

"To what are you referring, my Lord?"

"I'm talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just had a child with the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud."

A nervous laughter clamoured the room. The Death Eaters were enjoying taking pleasure in Bellatrix and the Malfoys' humiliation, but they were still too frightened too break into jeering. Bellatrix's face flushed red with embarrassment.

"She is no niece of ours, my Lord! We ‒ Narcissa and I ‒ have not set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with us, nor any beasts she births."

"What of you, Draco?" Voldemort asked. "Will you babysit the cub?"

They burst out in cackles as the humility mounted. Draco looked at his parents in terror, as if they would provide him with the answer of how to respond. Neither looked back at him.

"Enough," called Voldemort, effectively silencing the room. "Some of our oldest family trees become diluted over time, and it is our job to cut out those parts that threaten the health of the rest."

"Of course, my Lord," whispered Bellatrix, her eyes wet with tears of gratitude. "At the first chance!"

"You shall have it," said Voldemort. "And in your family, so in the world, we shall remove the cancer that infects us until only the purest of blood remain." There was a chorus of agreement surrounding him.

"But, it is also of importance to make certain our children keep our lines pure.

"What of your son, Nott?"

"He is still in school, my Lord. Surely he will look for a wife after he is done at Hogwarts."

"And of yours, Lucius?"

"My Lord, Draco has found a nice Pureblood girl from Germany, and they are to bed wed once Draco finishes at Hogwarts."

"Not soon enough!" Voldemort seethed. "Bot of you! You are to pull your sons out of Hogwarts. There is little need for N.E.W.T. scores in this world when they both make for such fine Death Eaters. Nott, find your son someone immediately. I've heard the Parkinsons have a daughter about his age. And Lucius, Draco and this girl shall be wed at once! It shall be an event to mark the first Pureblood marriage of the new world." The two men nodded.

"Yes, my Lord."

With that, he disappeared from the room entirely, along with most of the others. Only four people remained.

"Cissy," Bellatrix murmured. "You didn't tell me that Draco had found someone!"

Her sister looked at her and blinked. "I… it must have slipped. " Bellatrix ignored her and walked behind her nephew. She put her hands on his shoulders and leant in close.

"Draco, you're going to be a right and proper man now," she whispered into his ear. "You're going to have a wife, children, and be the best heir to both the Malfoy and Black families as possible. Isn't that right?

Draco shivered and nodded. "Yes, Aunt Bella."

She giggled in delight. "Now I must meet my future niece-in-law. Bring her here, will you, Draco dear?"

His eyes went wide and Draco looked to his parents for guidance. They said nothing. "Alright. Wait here, I'll go get her."


End file.
